His Tomboy Bride. Leanna Wilson
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She squared her shoulders. “We were all jerky when we were young.” She raised one brow. “Some of us outgrew junior high.” She gave him a pointed stare. “Besides, Doug wasn’t the only one who teased me.”
He chuckled. “I see you haven’t lost your backbone. That’s a good sign. I teased you like a li’l sister. I wasn’t mean. Not like Schaeffer.”
“No,” she admitted, her gaze softening. “You weren’t mean.”
“Now what can I say for you to break your engagement?” he asked, his voice low.
She jutted out her chin. “Doug and I are getting married.”
“What can I do, then?” His voice dropped to a provocative tone as he remembered the kiss they’d once shared. His gaze shifted to her sensuous mouth. He stared at her full bottom lip, which looked ripe and plump as a summer strawberry. He remembered the softness of her lips, the warmth. His body tightened with renewed awareness. He jerked his thoughts upright. What had gotten into him? Had he lost his mind?
She turned in her saddle to face him. “You can’t do a damn thing, Nick Latham. Go back to Houston... where you belong. And let me get married in peace.”
Billie heeled her mount into a cantor, anger straightening her spine like a steel rod. What was Nick trying to do? Stop her wedding? Why was it so important to him?
Of course, she wouldn’t let him. His pointed questions about the ranch stabbed at the raw guilt she already felt for failing to make it profitable. Nick was right; it was her heritage. But not her chosen path. She wanted to work with animals, but not breeding to sell them for somebody’s juicy steak or cheeseburger. Each time she sold a truckload of cattle, her heart ached. She’d had to sell more recently to make ends meet. How much longer could she hold out? Her plan would keep the land in the family, provide a place for her mother to live, and give her the freedom to move on with her life. With Doug’s money, she could hire someone to handle the ranch, and she’d oversee it as she went to school.
For some reason, though, she couldn’t explain her feelings to Nick. He wouldn’t understand. He’d made his father’s business a success. And she didn’t want his pity...or his contempt.
She wouldn’t let him affect her, either. Although he already had. Far more than she cared to acknowledge. Her senses swirling, her mind spinning, she rode hard and fast until she noticed Calamity laboring for each breath. She reined in her mount and slowed to a trot then a walk. As her heart calmed to a steadier beat, she heard the rumbling sound of a horse approaching from behind. Knowing it was Nick, she kept her gaze straight ahead. She heard Diablo wheeze as Nick pulled alongside her.
“We better let Diablo rest,” she said, swinging a leg behind her and dismounting. Once again, she’d overreacted, putting the gelding at risk. Guilt hung around her neck like a heavy yoke. She patted the old horse in a quiet apology.
Nick met her in front of the horses and looped the reins over Diablo’s head. He watched Billie., but she ignored him. Her cheeks stung with an internal heat. Too aware of Nick, his stare, his smile, his broad shoulders that looked strong enough for a girl to rest her weary head upon, she broke off a sliver of knee-high grass and stuck the end between her teeth.
“Boy, I’ve missed this place. It feels like home.” He led the horse through the field. “But it’s changed.”
Unsure of his tactics, she furrowed her brow. At least he’d chosen a safe topic. “A few months ago I built a new corral over near the swamp. Remember when Dad had us drag a feed trough over there to entice those wild heifers out of that pasture?”
“Yeah.” He placed a hand on his lower back as if an old injury still pained him. “That she-devil kicked the slats out of me when I tried to herd her toward the truck.”
“Well, now we have a feed lot with two troughs and a chute. I can bring the cattle in, worm them, spray for flies or weed out any I plan to sell. I can herd one or two into the chute, then load them straight into the trailer from there.”
“Pretty smart,” he said.
Relaxing a smidgen, she shrugged. “Well, I didn’t come up with it all on my own. I saw Harold Jacobson with a similar operation. Do you remember ol’ Mr. Jacobson? He used to teach the Ag courses at the high school. Dad and he were friends. And he’s been generous with more agriculture advice since Jake and I started running things. He comes around about once a week to see how things are going.” She smiled suddenly as if remembering something. “You had the hots for his daughter.”
Nick rubbed his jaw with his thumb as his mouth quirked with a fleeting smile. “I’d forgotten about her.”
Billie snorted and pursed her lips. “You always were the love-‘em-and-leave-’em type. It was like a parade, watching the girls march in and out of your life. How many wore your letter jacket? Your class ring?”
“Ah, hell, Billie, I can’t remember every girl I’ve ever dated. Can you remember every boy you ever went out with?”
Her jaws locked. Tension coiled around her like a snake. Of course, she could remember. There had only been one boy she’d ever wanted. And only one she’d ever dated. The first was standing beside her, staring at her as smug as any Neanderthal. The second was her fiancé.
“Can you?” he prompted, not letting her off the hook.
She kept her gaze trained straight ahead. “Yes, I can. Maybe I took dating a little more seriously than you did.”
“Why?” he asked.
She glanced at him, then wished she hadn’t. He looked too damn sexy. Natural as any cowboy, he handled Diablo like a wrangler, not like her fiancé who looked like he’d rather be air-conditioned and sipping a Scotch. Squeezing off that thought, she walked faster.
“Because dating is...serious business. It has a purpose. To find the one you’re going to marry. And I did.” She reiterated her engaged state for her own sake as much as Nick’s. When she looked at him, at the crinkles surrounding his hazel eyes, the tempting curve of his lower lip, she needed a clear reminder of why she’d chosen Doug instead of waiting for love.
“It’s also to have fun. Didn’t you ever date for fun?” His brow crunched into a frown.
Feeling the bite of resentment, she gritted her teeth. That was one more thing she’d never had time for. In fact, much to her chagrin, she’d never dated around period. Her experience with men had mostly been proving herself in a man’s world. She’d preferred branding irons to curling irons. She hadn’t cared about makeup or twittering gossip about the cutest boy. Unless it had centered on Nick.
He stopped walking and draped his arm over Diablo’s withers. The reins dangled between his tanned fingers, drawing attention to his work-worn hands, which exuded strength, confidence and an amazing gentleness that she remembered from a long-ago caress.
“Didn’t you ever go out with a man,” he asked, “knowing you wouldn’t marry him, and yet you had a damn good time?”
“No.”